


A Long Awaited Reunion

by VTsuion



Series: Between the Voyages [11]
Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series, Star Trek: The Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Aging, Angst with a Happy Ending, Drama, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Married James T. Kirk/Spock, Movie: Star Trek Generations (1994), Recovery, Romance, Star Trek: Generations Fix-It, Vulcan Bond, Vulcan Mind Melds, old married spirk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:14:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23852131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VTsuion/pseuds/VTsuion
Summary: For eighty years, Captain James T. Kirk was trapped in an illusion in a temporal nexus. To him, it hardly felt like hours before he was rescued by Captain Jean-Luc Picard, but outside the world went on without him. Now he's free, after recovering from some broken bones, and has to figure out what to do in the 24th century. Thankfully he has some help from a few old friends.This is an abridged version of my longer fic,Generations. This one just focuses on The Original Series characters and Kirk and Spock's relationship, but if you're up for a lot of conversations with characters from The Next Generation, I recommend reading the complete story.
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Spock
Series: Between the Voyages [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1325279
Kudos: 38





	1. Chapter 1

Captain James Kirk struggled into awareness with a groan. Everything felt fuzzy and distant; the over-bright lights, the dull ache that permeated his entire body - what had he gotten into? Even his bond with Spock had faded away so much he could barely feel it. He struggled to remember where he was and what was going on. He’d had the strangest dream, and before that… Was he still on the  _ Enterprise-B _ , in their sickbay?

He tried to reach out to Spock, for some semblance of order in all the uncertainty, but there was nothing. His heart leaped into his throat, suddenly beating much faster. Spock couldn’t be dead, he would  _ feel _ it.

He forced his heavy eyelids open despite the searing bright light.

“Captain Kirk, you’re finally awake,” a woman said from just on the edge of his vision.

He tried to prop himself up on an unsteady arm to get a better look at her. She was attractive, with bright orange hair, in her forties, if he had to guess, watching him with a worried, almost nervous expression. She looked like a doctor or nurse in scrubs over a strange uniform that he recognized from somewhere, but on her chest was a pin with the Starfleet insignia. His first thought was an alternate universe, but somehow that didn’t quite sit right.

"Not so fast, Captain," she cautioned, her hands out to help him lie back down.

Despite his protesting muscles, he still had a little pride, enough to carefully lower himself onto his back without any assistance. Her exasperated expression suggested he was hardly her first stubborn patient, but she didn't interfere. Once he was settled, she stood next to him so he could see her clearly without straining his neck.

"I wouldn't be on the starship  _ Enterprise _ , would I?" Kirk asked, not entirely serious just in case.

She answered with a faintly bemused smile of her own, "Not quite. This is the United Starship  _ Farragut _ . I'm Dr. Beverly Crusher."

Kirk's eyes widened a little in surprise. It was quite the coincidence - if it was one - waking up on a ship that shared its name with the first starship he'd ever served on, whose crew had been ravaged by a sentient gaseous cloud that Kirk, as a young Lieutenant, had been unable to stop.

"I see," he remarked at last, as lightly as he could.

"How much do you remember?" the doctor asked gently.

He smiled. "Other than waking up in the nicest sickbay in the Federation?"

Dr. Crusher seemed amused if not convinced. "Your reputation precedes you, Captain."

"All good, I hope. And you can call me Jim.” A little more darkly, he added, "I'm retired now anyway."

Her expression quickly changed from exaggerated annoyance at his teasing to something more serious, almost pitying. "You've traveled a long way in what must seem to you like a very short time. It may come as a bit of a shock."

He nodded for her to continue.

"Do you remember the launch of the  _ Enterprise-B _ ?"

"Yes."

When she continued, she spoke very carefully, "According to our historical records you died saving the ship from a gravimetric distortion."

"But I take it I'm not dead," he said with just a touch of mischief.

"Yes." She gave him a somewhat weak smile. "According to Captain Picard, you were stuck in a 'temporal nexus.' To you it may have seemed like just minutes, but" - she hesitated - "You were in there for almost 80 years."

Kirk nodded along almost blindly. It hadn't been a dream, then. He remembered Captain Picard and an incredible place that wasn’t quite real. Maybe that could even explain whatever had happened to his bond with Spock, he only hoped it hadn't broken. Just a few years after Spock’s death had almost been enough to drive him mad, he couldn’t imagine what eighty years would do, even to a Vulcan.

"It's 2371 now," Dr. Crusher said.

That was about 80 years. "I guess I have a lot of catching up to do," he said with half a smile.

"Let's worry about getting you a clean bill of health first. You took a bad fall while fighting Soran" - she glanced at him to check if the name was familiar.

He nodded. He could remember the man he had been taken out of the Nexus to fight, who had been desperate to return to it.

"Your bones are mostly healed," the doctor continued, "But you should take it easy for a little while, which shouldn't be too hard. Right now, the  _ Farragut _ is just taking the crew of the  _ Enterprise _ back to Earth, since our ship was destroyed in the attempt to stop Soran."

Kirk couldn't help but smile a little at the coincidence that another starship called  _ Enterprise _ had been destroyed in exchange for the life of another old captain. "It wasn't the Klingons, was it?"

"Strangely enough, yes - rebels against the Empire." Sympathetically, she said, "A lot has changed in eighty years."

Kirk nodded. “I’m sure it has.”

"If you need anything, just ask," Dr. Crusher said, a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"I don't suppose I could have a computer terminal?"

"Of course. You must have a lot of questions."

Dr. Crusher soon returned with a PADD, much sleeker than the ones from his time on the  _ Enterprise _ . "You can use this to access the computer library. I also noticed your record says you're allergic to Retnax, so I replicated these for you." She handed him a pair of standard reading glasses.

He accepted the glasses much more reluctantly than the PADD, but he thanked her with a smile all the same.

Once Dr. Crusher had moved on to her next patient, Kirk put on the glasses and turned to the PADD. "Computer, status of Captain Spock."

"Did you mean Ambassador Spock?" it replied with the same feminine voice the computer had when he started as a captain.

Kirk smiled. He couldn't say he was surprised by Spock’s promotion. He wondered if the Federation wasn't also at peace with the Romulans now that Spock had something to say about it.

"Yes," Kirk said. "Status of Ambassador Spock."

He was alive - Kirk let out a breath of relief. The computer listed pages and pages of accomplishments; conferences and treaties, but no mention of what he was currently doing.

"Current location of Ambassador Spock," Kirk attempted, but it turned up no answers.

Spock couldn't be dead, he would feel it - wouldn't he? Maybe Spock was missing like Kirk had been for all those years -  _ eighty years _ \- or on some classified mission. Kirk would find out one way or another, if only he could somehow let Spock know he was back.

The computer, at least, seemed to hold no answers. So, instead, he alternated between sleeping - he was still recovering after all - and looking into who else was still around.

Dr. McCoy had retired to Georgia and was still living there today, if his Starfleet record was to be believed. Living to 140 wasn’t the strangest thing listed, and Kirk had been there for a lot of the other things, so maybe it wasn't so surprising he'd lived so long. He would be surprised to see Kirk again.

Scotty, as it turned out, had disappeared like Kirk had, in his case due to a transporter malfunction not long after the launch of the  _ Enterprise-B _ , and had also been rescued by the  _ Enterprise-D _ just a few years ago. Apparently, he'd hardly aged either. Now, he was travelling the galaxy in a modified shuttlecraft. His reports - with plenty of commentary - made for colorful reading to wile away the hours in sickbay.

* * *

Finally, Dr. Crusher declared, "You're all clear." 

She let Kirk sit up and slide off the examination table. "Thank you, doctor," he said, though he was too stubborn to accept the proffered arm. "It's been a pleasure."

She gave him a look, but the trace of a smile ruined the effect. "You're free to walk around, but be careful, your bones are still fragile while they finish healing. No strenuous activity for a few weeks at least. And I want you to come in here at the first sign of any trouble. Understood?"

"Yes ma'am," Kirk said.

"Good, then you're clear to go," the doctor said.

A tall young man with an eager almost wry grin greeted him with an outstretched hand - “Captain Kirk.”

“You have me at a disadvantage,” Kirk said as they shook hands.

“Commander William Riker, First Officer of the USS  _ Enterprise-D _ , at your service, sir. I’ve read about all your adventures, and I’m sure there are plenty that didn’t make it into the history books.” He flashed Kirk a knowing smile. More seriously, he said, “Admiral Brackett wants to see you.”

Commander Riker led Kirk to a spacious conference room. The whole far wall was nothing but windows looking out on open space. Captain Picard was already seated at the table in front of them, deep in conversation with a woman on the viewscreen who must have been Admiral Brackett. Picard waved Kirk over to the chair next to him, Riker sat down on the other side of the table, across from his captain, and the rest of his command crew filled in around the table.

The admiral turned to Kirk with a smile. “Captain Kirk, on behalf of Starfleet and the United Federation of Planets, welcome back.”

“Thank you,” Kirk said.

"We look forward to your arrival on Earth." Finally, she got around to the point - "Frankly, you've returned at just the right time. A lot of our fleet was recently destroyed by a new threat, the Borg. We've lost a lot of our best officers and could use a man with your experience at the helm. You would have your choice of ship-"

Kirk raised a hand for silence. "I'm honored, but I retired eighty years ago."

"Captain," she insisted, "Please reconsider. Think of the difference you could make.”

Kirk shot a glare at Picard - those were Kirk’s own words she was using against him; that was how Picard had convinced him to give up the illusion in the Nexus and return to fight Soran.

“Is there anything we could do to convince you?” the admiral pressed.

Kirk had no intention of coming out of retirement, as much as the idea of commanding another starship appealed to him, but he saw his opening and took it. “Can you arrange for Ambassador Spock to meet me on Earth?”

Her eyes narrowed in surprise. “Ambassador Spock?”

“He was my First Officer.”

“The situation with the ambassador is a little more complicated-” she attempted.

“Please, just let him know that I’m back - he’ll find a way.”

“With all due respect, it’s been a long time.” She hesitated. “He’s quite dedicated to his current mission.”

Kirk could feel everyone’s eyes on him, but still he insisted, “I don’t have to see him, just let him know I’m alive.”

“Admiral,” one of Picard’s senior officers, Lieutenant Commander Data - an android - spoke up, “Captain Kirk may be able to convince Ambassador Spock to return to Earth. According to their records, they are married.”

The admiral turned to Kirk for confirmation and he nodded with a sheepish smile.

“I’m sorry, Captain,” the admiral said at last, “Ambassador Spock has been out of contact for three years now.”

“Can I at least know what’s going on?” Kirk demanded.

The admiral nodded.

Picard volunteered - “I can fill him in.”

Kirk barely heard the rest of the meeting. Instead, he stared out the windows that made up the far wall, letting his mind wander through the stars as the others discussed the logistics of transferring an entire crew from one starship to another. He tried not to think about what could have happened to Spock.

Finally, the others filtered out of the conference room, leaving Kirk and Picard alone.

“Jim” - Picard hesitated - “Ambassador Spock is on Romulus.”

Kirk tore his eyes away from the windows and glanced at Picard. “I take it they haven’t become our allies in the past eighty years?”

“No, if anything our relations with the Romulans have gotten worse. They feel threatened by our alliance with the Klingons and have been doing everything in their power to put an end to it.”

Kirk braced himself for the worst and demanded, a little more sharply than necessary, “What happened to Spock?”

Picard sighed. “He’s been on Romulus for the past three years, attempting to educate the Romulan people in Vulcan ways and promote the reunification of Vulcan and Romulus. The assumption is that no news is good news - he’s well known as a Federation ambassador, and we assume the Romulans would make some noise if they had him, but the truth is we don’t know.”

Kirk just shook his head. Reunifying Vulcan and Romulus sounded like a crazy idea, even for Spock who had been in favor of peace with the Klingons before anyone else. But then again, there was a certain logic to it, not just trying to bring peace between Romulus and the Federation, but also trying to force the Vulcans to open up in the process. Either way, Kirk knew what he had to do.

“He’s not supposed to be there?” Kirk confirmed.

“No, in fact, at first we thought he might have defected to the Romulans” - Picard saw Kirk’s expression and clarified, “Not that we really believed he would defect, but he vanished one day, and was spotted on Romulus the next. Mr. Data and I were sent to sort it out and retrieve him.”

Kirk’s face lit up. “You met him?”

Picard smiled a little. “As a matter of fact, I did. He was remarkably stubborn.”

Kirk grinned and nodded in agreement. More seriously, he asked, “How was he?” He could only hope Spock wasn’t suffering from a broken bond.

“He seemed fine when I was there,” Picard answered, unsurprisingly oblivious to the real weight behind Kirk’s question, “But he hadn’t been on Romulus for very long. He was living underground, in a network of caves under a town, but I don’t think he stayed put. I doubt it’s gotten any easier since we left. He went when he did because he was invited by a friend of his, who he met at the Khitomer Conference, but it was a trap. We escaped - mostly thanks to Ambassador Spock.”

Kirk nodded. “He’s very efficient.”

“It’s easy to forget he was once a Starfleet captain, but he plainly hasn’t.”

“He was like that as a first officer too - the best one in the fleet.” Kirk couldn’t help but smile.

“His reputation as an ambassador is the same, and despite the troubles we encountered, he had amassed quite a following already. His students were quite devoted to him.”

“He has that effect on people.”

Picard looked unconvinced, but acknowledged, “He’s dedicated to his cause, I can give him that. I tried to convince him to return to the Federation, maybe I didn’t try hard enough, but he wouldn’t budge, even after being caught by the Romulan Security Forces.”

“He wouldn’t. I doubt I could convince him to leave...” Kirk trailed off.

After a moment’s pause, Picard carefully remarked, “When I saw him, he mentioned that he still feels responsible for the time you spent on Rura Penthe. He said he went to Romulus alone because he didn’t want to risk anyone else’s life.” He gave Kirk a pointed look, as though he could see through Kirk’s nascent plans.

Kirk shook his head. Of course Spock still felt guilty for it after all these years. “I’m to blame for worse.”

Picard hesitated. “Sometimes it feels like we give up too much in the name of duty.”

Kirk leaned back with a sigh. “I don’t know.” He still wanted so badly to be back in that chair, even for all it had cost him.

After a long silence, Picard spoke up, “Jim, I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but if you and the ambassador are married, you should know; Sarek died not long after Ambassador Spock left for Romulus.”

“Does Spock know?”

“Yes, I had a chance to tell him while I was on Romulus.”

Kirk nodded. “I’m sure his death is a great loss to the Federation.”

Delicately, Picard attempted, “I know he and Ambassador Spock had a difficult relationship.”

“To say the least,” Kirk couldn’t help but add.

Picard hesitated. “I shared a small bond with Sarek. He cared for Spock, in his way.”

Kirk frowned. “Maybe, but that doesn’t make him a good father.”

“The last thing he said to me before I left - before he died - was that he wanted me to tell Spock that he loved him. I know they argued, but perhaps that was merely how they communicated.”

Kirk glanced away to look out on the stars. Finally, he returned his gaze to Picard, his mind made up. “Sarek married a human woman and then punished their son for being too emotional - too human. It took Spock’s death for Sarek to finally accept him.” Despite Kirk’s efforts to keep his voice even, it shook a little with emotion.

“He saw his son die,” Picard protested. “It almost destroyed him.”

Kirk’s eyes widened as he realized what Picard had seen. He cut off Picard with a shake of his head. “Sarek wasn’t there.”

“But I saw-”

Kirk shook his head again. “I melded with Sarek and showed him what happened.”

“That was…” Picard trailed off in realization. “Jim, I’m sorry.”

Kirk waved it off with a weak attempt at a smile. “It was a long time ago. Spock is fine now.”

“You wouldn’t know that he’s over a hundred by looking at him.”

Kirk’s smile grew a little stronger, though some dampness lingered under his eyes. “Thank you, Captain.” He forced himself to his feet.

Picard followed suit. “You can call me Jean-Luc.”

“Thank you, Jean-Luc,” Kirk corrected himself. “You’ve given me a lot to think about.”

Picard hesitated. “If you want to talk, you’re more than welcome.”

Kirk nodded in understanding. “I have a lot of questions about the  _ Enterprise-D _ , but we should save something to talk about for next time.”

“I can show you to your quarters,” Picard offered and led the way out of the conference room.

* * *

Kirk tossed and turned in a bed that was much too soft for a cot on a starship. He didn’t really want to get comfortable, there was too much on his mind, too much weighing on him. Finally, he threw off the sheets, changed into a clean uniform, and strode out into the hall. It was quieter now, though he still passed a few officers hurrying to and fro. Some attempted to greet him, but he waved them off. The computer terminal that ran along the walls in a black band guided him up to the observation deck at the top of the saucer.

The observation deck was thankfully empty - there were a lot more places on the ship where people could go to savor the experience of being in outer space. A whole wall and part of the ceiling were paned with transparent aluminum, through which he could see the stars shifting around him as they passed at warp.

He had glanced at a star chart, they weren’t too far from Romulan space. If he peered in the right direction, he may have even been able to see some of the stars in the Neutral Zone. All he needed was a ship to take him there, and the admiral had been all too willing to give him one. But he couldn’t risk a crew on a personal mission.

Maybe she would be willing to strike a deal; he would come out of retirement, but first he needed a small ship to take him to Romulus. He didn’t actually expect to return, they were both too stubborn - Spock wouldn’t leave and Kirk refused to leave him there alone. It wasn’t the cleanest way to get what he wanted, but he only had so many options.

* * *

Kirk sat in his room, going over the plan for the umpteenth time.

There was no reason to delay. He didn’t even have a career to sacrifice. He would rather not steal a starship, but having recently returned from the dead, he didn’t have many options.

“Computer, put me through to Admiral Brackett-” Kirk began.

The beep of his communicator cut him off.

“Wait on that,” Kirk ordered and tapped on his communicator.

It was Picard. “Jim, we’ve received a transmission from Ambassador Spock.”

Kirk’s heart leaped. “I’m on my way.” He turned off the communicator, cancelled the call to the admiral and nearly ran down to Picard’s quarters.

“What did Spock say?” Kirk demanded as the doors slid open to let him inside.

Picard was at his desk, working on the computer terminal. He turned it off when Kirk entered and answered with a smile, “He’s on his way. We’ll meet him between here and the Neutral Zone.”

It took Kirk a few moments to truly register what Picard had said.  _ Spock was on his way _ . There was no need to go to Romulus. He would see Spock soon, in a matter of days. He remembered seeing Spock off like it was just a month ago, but it had been  _ eighty years _ since Spock had last seen him, since their minds had touched - a whole lifetime. Kirk couldn’t imagine how much had changed in his absence.

A jittery rush of nerves and excitement spread through his veins. He couldn’t hold back a grin.

“Good,” Kirk said, “great.”

“I imagine he’ll be pleased to see you.”

“I hope so,” Kirk said, though he couldn’t really bring himself to doubt it.


	2. Chapter 2

Kirk fidgeted with the long coat of the new dress uniform. He finally gave up and glanced over at Picard and Riker, standing off to the side as the official welcoming party. Picard gave him an encouraging smile and Riker grinned. Kirk smiled back, but he was all nerves. His heart was beating too fast and he didn’t know how much longer he could stand there, waiting.

“Ready to transport,” the transporter chief declared from the controls.

Kirk snapped to attention, facing straight ahead at the transporter pad, into the space where Spock would supposedly materialize. His heart pounded in his ears. He was staring so intently, he could almost see past the transporter and through the wall, into open space.

And then he heard a low whistle. It quickly rose to a loud whine as stripes of light appeared on the transporter pad. Kirk peered through the glaring light, searching for a humanoid figure materializing within.

Just as he was beginning to lose hope, Kirk glimpsed a shadow forming amidst the glow, which coalesced into a silhouette. And then, in the blink of an eye, Spock appeared on the transporter pad.

He was unmistakable, a little thinner than he had been when Kirk last saw him - life in hiding on Romulus could not have been easy - but he looked elegant in long, black Vulcan robes embroidered with intricate, curving Vulcan script. He was even wearing dark purple eyeshadow to accentuate his angled eyebrows.

Picard and Riker made to greet the ambassador, their hands raised in perfect Vulcan form, split between the third and fourth finger, but Spock only had eyes for the man in front of him, who returned his gaze with a dumbstruck stare.

“Jim,” Spock said at last. “Parted from me and never parted.”

A grin spread across Jim’s face as he finished the familiar litany, “Never and always touching and touched.”

And then, they both surged forward - Spock’s robes billowed around him. Jim took Spock by the shoulders and their eyes locked as though to memorize each others’ features. A smile teased at both of their lips. Even without their bond the same thought passed through their minds - a memory of another reunion and things that should not be expressed in front of Klingons or starship captains.

Spock was the first to turn away, his hand brushed against Jim’s ever so slightly as he faced Captain Picard and Commander Riker. Jim hastily followed suit, though he couldn’t keep his eyes off Spock.

Spock mirrored their greeting, holding up his hand in the Vulcan salute.

“Live long and prosper, Ambassador,” Picard spoke first, and Riker echoed after him.

“Live long and prosper,” Spock answered in kind. “And thank you for retrieving me at such short notice.”

“I’ll pass your thanks on to the captain,” Picard said. “Welcome to the USS  _ Farragut _ . This is my first officer, Commander Riker.”

Spock inclined his head in acknowledgement. “It is a pleasure to meet you. And now, if you will excuse us, Captain Kirk and I have much to discuss.” He turned to Kirk, expectantly, and they took their leave.

They walked through the halls in silence. An excited tension buzzed in Kirk’s chest, spurring him on to match Spock’s long stride and then some. At last, he waved Spock into his quarters. They waited as the doors slid shut behind them more slowly than Jim had ever remembered. And then, finally, they turned to face each other once more.

Spock looked remarkably unchanged despite the years between them. Jim could almost imagine that they were back in the apartment in San Francisco, or to better suit the setting, that he had followed Spock on one of his diplomatic missions. But the way Spock was staring at him told another story.

“I did not expect I would ever see you alive again,” Spock admitted, his voice low.

“Spock” - Jim tentatively reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. “Is it…?” he trailed off, as though asking the question aloud would make it real.

Spock understood and shook his head.

Jim let out a sigh of relief.

Spock hesitated. “It is not broken, but our bond has been blocked since you disappeared from the  _ Enterprise-B _ .”

“Should we reroute to Vulcan?” Jim asked, ignoring the fact that there were two other captains on board who may have had something else to say on the matter.

“I do not believe that is necessary. If you wish to renew our bond, I should be able to do so in a mind meld.” Spock spoke carefully, avoiding betraying his opinion one way or the other, but Jim could see a tentative hopefulness in his eyes.

“Yes,” Jim said with a raw smile. “If that’s what you want, of course,” he hastily tacked on.

“Jim,” Spock said almost reproachfully.

Jim gestured for him to go ahead.

“It may be prudent to make ourselves comfortable,” Spock suggested.

Jim followed him to the couch and they sat side by side, not quite touching. Spock raised his hand in an intimation of a meld. Jim nodded in assent. Finally, Spock closed the distance between them. He splayed out his fingers across Jim’s face, pressing his fingertips to Jim’s meld points. Jim’s eyes fell shut under the gentle caress.

“My mind to your mind, my thoughts to your thoughts,” Spock recited.

Jim reached for Spock’s mind with all the psychic abilities he did not possess as they very slowly came together. First, he felt Spock’s carefulness, his reticence as barriers built up over decades yielded before a familiar mind. There was uncertainty and fear and practiced control, but beneath it, a bubbling rush of relief that threatened to pour out.

Instead, Spock directed the flow. The present gave way to the past. What seemed like a strange dream in the Nexus expanded into eighty lonely years wandering the galaxy. They were productive years, full of countless accomplishments; treaties with the Klingons, a liason to the new Horta civilization, talks with the Cardassians, and more recently friendships with Romulans. But as the memories flitted past, Jim could not miss that he never stayed long in one location, instead going from starship to planet to starship, with no place to call home.

_ It was easier that way _ \- but they both knew it wasn’t.

Still they remained separate. There were still walls that had not been breached. Jim longed for Spock to let him in, and as the thought passed through his mind, Spock could no doubt feel it, but Jim would not push, no matter how much he wanted things to stay as they had been.

He felt Spock’s reluctance, his reflexive recitiance. He had been alone in his own mind for so long.

Jim held out a hand to him, a silent invitation. Their eyes were both closed, but Spock sensed the intention.

Slowly, cautiously, Spock took his hand. Jim felt the warm pressure on his fingertips before, together, they dove into the storm.

Their deepest feelings surged around them, tossing them to and fro in a whirlwind of memories. Their minds crashed together like two waves. The tide threatened to pull them under, and they let it wash over them. They sank into the eye of the storm…

_ One soul in two bodies. Home. _

As they pulled away in unison, the bond between their minds remained. It was quiet and distant compared to the rush of the meld, but it was there. Jim could feel Spock’s cautious contentment and sure enough, though Spock’s expression remained flat, Jim could see a smile in the crinkles around his eyes. Jim could not help but smile back.

They could have sat there forever, just taking in the other’s presence, maybe eventually giving way to conversation.

But it was almost time for dinner, so they tore their eyes away with silent promises that they would have time enough together. Spock was the first to stand and he held out a hand to help Jim to his feet, which Jim accepted with a grin. For a moment, he let his hand linger in Spock’s warm touch, before he hoisted himself to his feet with a little assistance.

* * *

Finally, after an animated dinner with Picard and his command crew, Kirk and Spock made it back to their quarters. Both were exhausted from the long day, and though there was much uncertainty about the future weighing on both their minds, they prepared for bed in silence. Spock failed to completely conceal his illogical preference for changing in private, so Jim insisted Spock take over the somewhat separate bedroom, while Jim changed in the outer living room.

Jim let his mind wander as he pulled off the still uncomfortable new uniform. The inside wall was lined with windows looking out on the stars, and he was content to watch them drift by as Spock finished changing into his more modest sleepwear. For a moment, Jim regretted not putting on anything more, but Spock assured him that he had no objections.

At last, when Spock gave the all clear, Jim returned to the bedroom to find Spock sitting on the bed, his legs crossed as though for meditation, but his eyes were open, watching Jim intently, soaking in his presence. Spock’s expression remained stiff and it was not happiness that seeped through the bond, but a kind of awe. For all his logic, Spock was suspended on the edge of relief, unable to entirely believe his own senses. His world’s axis had shifted and it seemed to him that he had been left behind in its wake. He had some desire to reach out and touch Jim, to feel his presence, but could not bring himself to do so.

Slowly, cautiously, Jim approached the bed and sat down on the edge, waiting for Spock to make the first move. Ever since their meld, the years seemed to expand between them, and now it almost felt like the last time they had seen each other - from Jim’s perspective just months ago in San Francisco - had been the dream, and the Nexus and this strange future, the reality.

_ They are both reality _ , Spock corrected him, but he was aware of his hypocrisy.

At last, Spock spoke aloud, “I regret that I cannot give you the welcome that you deserve. I have been alone for a long time and am no longer accustomed to companionship.”  _ Especially human _ remained unsaid.

Spock’s regret compounded Jim’s own guilt for leaving Spock alone for so long. He reached for Spock’s hand on an impulse, hesitating only an instant for permission before taking it and cradling it between his own.

Their skin brushed together, sending sparks of emotion through their bond. In his mind’s eye, Jim glimpsed a desert storm dancing with lightning, at once overwhelming and exhilarating.

Jim grinned, his heart racing a little at the thought. “It’s just nice to have your undivided attention,” he said. His smile echoed through the bond.

He felt another burst of regret for abandoning Jim before he was lost in the Nexus, but it was not enough to quell Spock’s stubborn determination to fulfil his newfound purpose on Romulus. But the inevitable argument would wait.

Instead, Jim gave Spock’s hand a solid squeeze of reassurance -  _ You are more than enough  _ \- before he relinquished it to slide under the covers, where Spock joined him. They turned so they were facing each other, their noses mere inches apart.

Jim met Spock’s sharp brown eyes, full of such affection kept carefully under restraint. Spock desired to reach out, and yet he was reluctant. So Jim reached out and rested his hand on top of Spock’s, answering Spock’s affection with his own. Spock seemed to let out a silent sigh of relief, a little tension faded from his mind, and he curled his fingers around Jim’s hand, reaffirming his presence.

_ It is late, you should rest, _ Spock projected over the bond, making a futile attempt to conceal his own exhaustion.

_ You too, _ Jim suggested, though he knew it would do little to convince Spock. For a more convincing argument, he let his eyes fall shut and tried to steady his breathing, though he could  _ feel _ Spock’s presence mere inches away, more interesting than any dream. But gradually, his fatigue made itself known and he sunk into the overly soft mattress.

Hesitantly, Spock raised his free hand to brush a wayward curl off of Jim’s forehead, his fingers trailed lightly against Jim’s skin.

* * *

Jim awoke in an empty bed, but he was not alone.

Spock was sitting at the table in the other room, reading over a mug of Vulcan spice tea. Jim attempted to focus to get a better look at what he was reading and Spock projected it over the bond. To his surprise, it was not a PADD in Spock’s hands, but an old book written in a blocky script that almost looked like it was Klingon, but which he belatedly recognized as Romulan. It was apparently an ancient book of Romulan philosophy that had been passed down through the generations, graciously loaned to Spock by one of his students.

Jim could feel Spock’s pride and even affection for the young Romulans, so eager to learn about a culture that was no longer and not yet their own. It was not an easy life on Romulus, but better than decades spent wandering the galaxy in luxury alone. Jim refused to begrudge Spock his happiness, but still he could not help but wish that Picard had freed him from the Nexus just three years sooner.

Spock closed the book.  _ I am pleased that you have returned. _ Though he did not deny that Jim’s presence made matters more complicated. Jim did not argue, though he was tempted to.

Finally, Jim hoisted himself out of bed and joined Spock in the main room. Spock was dressed already, of course, back in his stately Vulcan robes. He had gotten up and meditated hours before, and he even reassured Jim that he had eaten a small breakfast.

“Good morning,” Jim said aloud.

Spock did not retort that, as they were not in orbit around a star, morning had no real meaning. Instead, he replied, “Good morning, Jim.” He watched Jim with restrained fascination.

Jim smiled.

Spock could only raise his eyebrows at the familiar expression.

More seriously, Jim asked, “Still subsisting on hardtack?”

Spock did not deny it, though they both knew that wasn’t what the Vulcan bread was called - it was accurate enough.

“You’re not going to ‘reacclimate’ if that’s all you eat,” Jim insisted.

Spock knew better than to argue.

Jim went over to the replicator and got a mug of coffee for himself and a proper breakfast for the two of them. “Unfortunately, I don’t think this place has a kitchen, so this is the best we’re going to get.”

“Thank you,” Spock said.

Jim sat down beside him with a smile and took a long sip of coffee - not quite right, but good enough.

Spock put down his tea as the strong flavor slipped through the bond like all of Jim’s thoughts, aided by the fragrant smell. For an instant, it was as though it was just another morning in their apartment in San Francisco  _ eighty years ago _ , or in their quarters on the  _ Enterprise _ some years before that. Jim was almost sent reeling by how much time had passed so quickly.

Spock knew the time around Jim’s retirement had not been easy, but he felt a deep pang of nostalgia. Again he was struck by how little Jim had changed in the intervening years. Spock looked largely the same, but there were tell-tale signs of how the years had affected him.

“I have a lot of catching up to do,” Jim acknowledged ruefully.

Spock raised his eyebrows in disagreement. He knew Jim could perceive his feelings, but he said them aloud for emphasis, “I am not disappointed, but relieved.”

“I know,” Jim said. He brushed his hand against Spock’s, letting their conflicting emotions mingle in the hope that together they might find some order.

Spock’s gaze softened in the suggestion of a gentle smile.

“You look younger already,” Jim teased.

“I feel younger,” Spock said seriously.

Jim leaned back in his chair and let out a sigh. They both longed for the past, even though they both knew they could not return to it.

At last, Jim stood to get ready for another day on the  _ Farragut _ .

Spock watched Jim go until he was in the bedroom, out of sight. Only then did he return to his reading.

* * *

Jim could feel Spock’s immovable determination, the will to do what needed to be done - his purpose in this new world Jim had found himself thrust into. It was dangerous, but as much as he dreaded losing Spock again, Jim had no right to get in his way and any attempt would be cruel as well as futile. But still, Jim was too stubborn to give up.

Spock turned toward Jim. They could both feel an argument brewing, boiling beneath the surface. They each knew everything the other would say long before they said it, but their feelings still threatened to burst out into the open. Even with their bond, maybe there were some things that needed to be said aloud.

“If you’re going back to Romulus, I’m coming with you,” Jim said at last.

“It is too dangerous,” Spock attempted in vain. He sat back down next to Jim and fixed him with his most unyielding look.

“If it’s too dangerous for me to come, then it’s too dangerous for you to go alone!” Jim badly wanted to be able to make it an order and end it at that, but Spock hadn’t been his first officer for a long time and now Spock technically outranked him.

“It is not your fight.”

“Bullshit,” Jim snapped. “I haven’t come back from the dead just for you to die on Romulus!”

“I have no intention of dying.” Spock kept his voice steady even as he warred with Jim’s frantic emotions that were much stronger than anything he had experienced in his time alone.

“Then let me help!”  _ You don’t have to be alone! _

“It was because of me that you were sent to Rura Penthe. I will not allow you or anyone else to walk into danger on my account.”

“And I got you killed!” Jim cried. For an instant, Spock felt the full force of the anguish of the broken bond, though it rapidly subsided.

Spock rested a hand on Jim’s arm as a reminder of his presence, though he did not risk skin-to-skin contact. He looked Jim firmly in the eye. “The decision was mine.”

“And I decided to board the Klingon ship!” Jim retorted. “It was my fault we ended up in the situation in the first place; it was me Khan was after, I didn’t raise the shields fast enough, I should have gotten us out of there.” He pounded a fist on thin air in vehemence.

Spock tightened his grip on Jim’s arm. “You did nothing wrong.” He tried to impress the words on Jim’s mind, but Jim rejected them, sending a shudder through the bond. Spock shored up his shields and tried again with words alone, “I followed you willingly and would do so again. It was not your choice to meet with the Klingons, I forced the duty upon you even though I knew the risks.”

“You should have told me,” Jim acknowledged. “But you were right; it was the right thing to do, and maybe being forced to fight for the treaty did me some good. Anyway, you got us out of there in the end.”

“It was the least that I could do. You risked everything to return me to life and I did little to repay you.”

Jim gave him a searing look -  _ Do you really believe that? _

“I will not permit you to waste the remainder of your life in the catacombs of Romulus or imprisoned on Remus on my account,” Spock insisted.

“It’s not up to you,” Jim snapped. “If I can’t stop you, then you sure as hell can’t stop me.”

“Jim,” Spock attempted.

“You can’t keep me locked away on Earth, not while you’re out risking your life half-way across the galaxy.”

Jim could feel Spock warring within himself, torn between his mission on Romulus and the safety of his newly reawakened bondmate.

“Jim, I am unwilling to risk anyone’s life but my own,” Spock tried again. His tone was sharp, but internally, Jim could feel him pleading.

“Your life isn’t any less important!” Again, Spock saw himself pressed against the glass - out of reach - dying.

“Jim,” Spock said softly, but urgently.

Spock let his hand brush against Jim’s, conveying as much of his living presence as he could. Jim’s breathing steadied, though his fierce determination lingered in his eyes.

“I must meditate,” Spock said at last, withdrawing from the contact.

“Go ahead,” Jim said with a dismissive wave. He was disappointed, but not surprised. He conveyed his understanding clearly through the bond.

“Thank you,” Spock said, before retreating into the bedroom.

* * *

When he was done meditating, Spock found Jim in the ship’s gym, standing off to the side with a towel slung over his bare shoulders. Jim’s breathing had returned to normal by the time Spock arrived, but Spock could see the sweat on his torso and feel his muscles aching from exertion.

“You will be sore tomorrow,” Spock remarked.

Jim smiled at him. “I know. That means I did it right.”

Spock raised his eyebrows in a silent argument, but did not debate him.

“After spending eighty years in stasis, I have to do something to get back in shape,” Jim said.

“Your muscles did not deteriorate while you were in the Nexus. Physiologically, you changed very little, as though you did not experience the passage of time.”

“I know,” Jim said with a touch of impatience. Spock seemed distant; their bond was still mostly shielded for meditation and his emotions were carefully restrained.

Spock rested a hand on Jim’s arm and attempted to convey some reassurance. “I may be able to ameliorate some of the discomfort.”

Jim glanced up at Spock to confirm that he really was suggesting what Jim thought he was. Spock nodded, and Jim smiled despite himself.

Jim tossed his towel in the laundry, pulled his shirt back on, and gestured for Spock to lead the way back to their quarters.

Slowly, their bond reopened. Jim could feel some of Spock’s unease and guilt for having abandoned him to meditate. All of Jim’s human emotion had been too much for a Vulcan long accustomed to living alone. But, Spock insisted, that just meant he needed to reacclimate to it.

They arrived in their quarters and went straight to the bedroom. At Spock’s direction, Jim sat down on the edge of the bed and Spock positioned himself cross-legged behind him, as though to meditate.

First, Spock eased off Jim’s shirt, his fingers trailing gently behind, sending shivers down Jim’s spine. Then he got to work, rubbing circles in Jim’s shoulders. Slowly, his hands traveled down Jim’s back. The warmth of Spock’s hands against the human’s cold skin relaxed Jim’s aching muscles on its own. Well practiced, precise movements kneaded away the remainder of the tension.

Their minds came together with the steady rhythm, they seemed to move as one. There was comfort, warmth, reassurance, a familiar presence that had been absent for much too long. It soothed the crashing waves of Jim’s mind and vitalized Spock’s desert with lightning and rain.

_ I am here now _ , whatever would come in the future. And even if they were separated, their minds remained together;  _ parted from me and never parted, never and always touching and touched _ . The familiar litany echoed between their minds, working its way through Spock’s hands into Jim’s back, to seep into his bones. Even his mind seemed to soften with the rhythmic motion, drawing them even closer together.

Relief surged through them in waves. They were no longer alone, their thoughts and emotions swirled together into one. It was peaceful and warm in the eye of the storm. Only there, were they whole.

Slowly, together Jim and Spock emerged. Jim leaned into Spock’s chest. Spock’s legs had unfolded to bring them closer, until their bodies were pressed together. His hands had left Jim’s back to splay across his face so his fingertips rested against Jim’s meld points. Spock’s chin leaned against Jim’s shoulder.

Spock felt a rush of embarrassment that he had initiated a meld through no independent conscious thought of his own.

Jim merely grinned in response and leaned even more heavily into Spock’s chest. Spock obliged and wrapped his arms around Jim’s torso, pulling him closer. A lick of illogical fear made him hesitant to let go.

_ You are not alone _ . The words echoed between their minds.

They stayed like that for a while longer, each soaking up the other’s presence. Even for Jim, it had been a long time since they’d been so close.

Spock silently apologized. He had intended to spend more time on Earth after their retirement, but he had gotten caught up in negotiations with the Klingons and he always assumed they would have plenty of time - not enough, but more.

“I wasn’t great company,” Jim admitted. Retirement had not been easy for him. Spock’s absence hadn’t helped, but even when Spock was there, he wasn’t happy.

Spock raised his eyebrows in disagreement. His regret was clear enough without words.

Jim turned around in Spock’s arms and kissed him on the lips. Sparks of gentle human affection scattered across Spock’s mind. His lips tingled with the soft, purposeful touch.

* * *

Jim examined the chess board, looking at it this way and that. There was no way around it; Spock’s play had improved significantly in the past eighty years, while Jim had only stagnated.

Spock raised an eyebrow at him.  _ You had no chance to play in the Nexus? _

Jim shot him a look.

While Jim was in the Nexus, Spock had played chess with ambassadors, Starfleet officers, and beings from all across the galaxy. Apparently, he had even succeeded at teaching a Horta to play, though it required a much larger board constructed of heat resistant material. And in return, he had learned a game of their own, though it proved difficult without the ability to corrode solid rock.

Finally, Jim made his move.

“Fascinating,” Spock said aloud and moved a piece of his own.

Jim glanced between Spock and the board. He was employing a much more forward style of play than the Vulcan strategy Jim was familiar with. But Jim could work with that. He leaned in towards Spock and advanced another piece with a mischievous smirk.

“You are as reckless as ever,” Spock remarked, but Jim could feel the warmth behind his words, and beneath it a deep longing, like nostalgia.

Jim pursed his lips in teasing annoyance as Spock continued to close his trap around Jim’s king. If there was a way out, Jim couldn’t see it.

Desperate times called for desperate measures. Spock had only a flash of warning before Jim reached out and settled his cool hand on top of Spock’s warm one. Their minds collided with a sudden rush of eager emotion. Jim rubbed circles in the back of Spock’s hand sending thrills down both their spines.

“I take this as your resignation,” Spock remarked, despite the distraction of all of Jim’s thoughts and feelings, sparking through his mind.

Jim merely grinned, but he didn’t deny it. Instead, he said, “You’ve become much more inventive. I would be impressed if it wasn’t so frustrating.”

“I do not see why you cannot be simultaneously impressed and frustrated,” Spock countered.

Jim gave him a look, and ran his hand down Spock’s long fingers in a kind of vengeance. Their minds pulled toward each other and their bond stretched open, letting their thoughts and feelings rush through. Even their very identities seemed no longer so distinct. Spock could only marvel at this mind, so familiar and vibrant with heartfelt affection, returned to him after so long. He yearned for the wholeness of a meld as much as he reflexively wanted to withdraw into meditation and process his contradictory emotions - Jim had only touched the surface and knew better than to press deeper.

At last, with a lingering touch, Jim withdrew his hand and declared, “Good game.”

Spock inclined his head. There was some suggestion of a smile around his eyes, but his expression remained flat, not that Jim was fooled.

“I am certain you will find the weakness in my strategy before long,” Spock said aloud.

Jim grinned. “I plan on it.”

“I look forward to the eventuality.”


	3. Chapter 3

Kirk and Spock materialized in the humid late afternoon on the grassy lawn just outside a small wooden cabin. Behind the cabin was a sprawling peach orchard that rustled lazily in the gentle breeze. It looked almost the same as it had last time Jim visited, as though it really had just been a few weeks instead of eighty years. If anything, maybe the trees looked a little smaller, as though he had moved back in time rather than forward - according to Spock, this was another generation entirely.

Jim took his time meandering up the walk - delaying the inevitable - so Spock led the way to the door and knocked. Jim had been so surprised the first time he visited Bones there to find that there was no bell to ring and that the door even had a wooden handle to turn instead of opening automatically.

Jim could hear someone moving inside, he may have even caught some familiar good-natured grumbling, before the door swung open to reveal a wizened old man. All at once, Jim was hit with the full force of eighty years. He could only wonder what had happened to his old friend, even though he very well knew, had been expecting it even.

“Spock!” Bones exclaimed - it was undeniably him, though his hair had turned white, the skin on his face was folded in deep wrinkles, and he was bowed over with age. “I thought you’d run off somewhere!”

Spock raised an eyebrow at him, but gave no reply. Instead, he waited as Bones’s gaze wandered over to Jim.

The old man froze. For a long moment he stood there, staring at Jim with wide eyes. “Why I never…” Bones said at last. He glanced over at Spock. “Is it really him?”

Spock inclined his head.

Bones turned back to Jim, staring at him as though somehow he could force the world to make sense. Jim echoed the sentiment.

“You must be the luckiest man alive,” Bones finally declared. “You don’t look like you’ve aged a day!”

Jim attempted a wry smile, but he was sure it turned out weak. “Just a few days.”

“And you’ve got your memories back and everything,” Bones marveled. He turned to Spock again. “How did you manage it?”

“ _ I _ didn’t,” Spock replied.

“What do you mean you didn’t?” Bones demanded, glancing between Jim and Spock.

“The credit goes to Captain Picard of the USS  _ Enterprise-D _ ,” Spock explained on Jim’s behalf - he was still reeling from seeing his old friend like this.

“Last I checked, we humans weren’t capable of bringing back the dead!”

“Jim did not die,” Spock said. “He fell into a temporal rift where he did not experience the passage of time. Captain Picard merely located him.”

Bones just shook his head. Abruptly, he seemed to realize they were all still crowded around the front door. “Well don’t just stand there,” he insisted. “Come on in.”

Bones waved Jim and Spock into the deceptively familiar living room, though Jim couldn’t help but notice that a few modern conveniences had snuck in amidst the old-fashioned furniture. Bones settled into his chair and Jim and Spock sat down side by side on the couch, not quite touching.

Once they were settled, Bones rounded on Spock with an almost accusatory tone; “You must have known Jim was alive all along, didn’t you?”

Spock merely raised an eyebrow at him.

Jim intervened as he always had. “He didn’t expect me to come back any more than you did.”

Bones faced Jim as though he had forgotten he was there. “You’re not the only one who hasn’t changed,” Bones admitted at last.

Jim gave him a small smile. “That’s a relief.”

“You really were stuck in time?”

Jim nodded. “It feels like it hasn’t been more than a few weeks since my last visit.”

Bones looked at Jim, really looked at him, as though he could see through all the things Jim wasn’t saying. Finally, Bones said, “It must come as a shock, seeing me like this.”

“You could say that,” Jim acknowledged.

“I’m sorry, Jim. But don’t go feeling bad for me. I’ve been enjoying being back on solid ground, and I’ve still got plenty of years left in me.”

"That's good," Jim said, though he didn't sound entirely convinced.

“There’s nothing I like better than sitting out on the porch with one of my mint juleps, watching the trees grow,” Bones attempted. “I think I’ve earned a little rest and relaxation after all you put me through.”

Jim gave Bones a look - it sounded more like wasting away than relaxing to him.

Bones waved it off. “I don’t think I’ll ever understand what you like so much about running around out there” - he shook his head for emphasis. He glanced over at Spock and asked, “When do you launch? I’ll see you off if you have to beam me up, though I expect a shuttle, and one of the nice ones.”

Jim looked at Spock, who merely raised an eyebrow in reply.

He could feel Spock’s resistance, but despite it Jim said, “I don’t think they’ll give us a sendoff when we leave for Romulus.”

“Romulus?” Bones demanded.

Jim nodded. “That’s where Spock’s been for the past three years, teaching the Romulans about Vulcan philosophy in the hope that eventually they’ll reunite. He’s going back, and I’m going with him.”

Jim could feel Spock’s malaise; he didn’t want to discuss it in front of Dr. McCoy, but he still refused to allow Jim to join him.

“And here I thought talking with the Cardassians was bad enough!” Bones exclaimed. “Jim, what would you do on Romulus?”

“Keep him out of danger for one” - Jim jabbed a finger in Spock’s direction.

Spock could keep quiet no longer. “As I have already made clear, you will not be accompanying me to Romulus.” He hesitated. “If necessary, I will remain on Earth.” Spock’s regret for not remaining with Jim for his first retirement came through the bond loud and clear.

“I’d rather go to Romulus alone than stay on Earth,” Jim retorted.

“What’s all this talk about staying on Earth?” Bones demanded. “It better not be on my account; the two of you would drive me up a wall!”

“I’m retired, remember?” Jim said.

“You’re too young to even be thinking about retirement!” Bones exclaimed.

"You weren't that much older than me.”

"It’s different and you know it! I was never meant to leave the ground, but Spock couldn't stay retired and neither should you. If you know what's good for you, you'll accept the first offer they give you and don't look back until you're at least a hundred."

"Bones," Jim cautioned.

Bones waved it off. "I know. I know you retired for a reason. My memory isn't that bad. But it's a new century, maybe it's time to stop living in the past."

Jim skeptically glanced around the very old-fashioned cabin.

"You know what I mean.”

Jim nodded, though he wasn't happy about it.

"I know it's not easy," Bones said with a sideways glance at Spock, “but somehow you managed to get a second chance - again - and I’d hate to see you waste it. Now,” he continued more lightly, “how exactly did you cheat death this time, if not Vulcan hoodoo?”

Grateful for the change in topic, Jim explained, “I got stuck in some kind of temporal nexus. It was like a strange dream; I thought I was at my uncle’s old cabin” - he glanced over at Spock with a smile, remembering the last time they had been there together before he sold it.

Spock answered with his own memory of the bitter cold of the Idaho winter - the rest of his feelings were carefully shielded away.

“It wasn’t that bad,” Jim insisted, resting a reassuring hand on Spock’s shoulder. “You liked relaxing by the fire, at least.” That was the last proper winter Jim could remember; the rest of the time he’d been in space or San Francisco.

“I’m still here, you know,” Bones piped up. “You could show an old man some respect.”

For an instant, Jim expected to see a man not much older than sixty sitting across from him. Not for the first time, he had to do a double take at the sight of Bones’s wrinkled face and white hair. “Sorry,” Jim said at last, much subdued.

Bones drew Jim back to the conversation with a sympathetic nudge - “Then what happened?”

“I wasn’t there for long,” Jim continued, “at least it didn’t feel like very long before Captain Picard found me, though it took a little convincing to get me to leave,” he admitted.

“Jean-Luc Picard?” Bones confirmed. “I always liked him. A good captain, though he needed a little polishing.”

Jim nodded. “He’s a good pick for captain of the  _ Enterprise _ . Though Spock doesn’t like him very much.”

“He didn’t manage to talk any sense into you?”

“No,” Jim said. “But he agrees with you.”

Bones nodded in approval. Then he turned on Spock. “And why don’t you like him?”

“I am surprised that you do,” Spock replied. “I have found he has an almost Vulcan quality.”

“Next you’ll be telling me to read Hamlet in the original Vulcan,” Bones retorted.

Spock raised his eyebrows at Dr. McCoy. “Such a narrative would be highly uncharacteristic of Vulcan literature.”

* * *

“I’m not going anywhere, if you need someone to knock some sense into you,” Bones offered good-naturedly.

He stood with Jim and Spock in the middle of the living room as they waited to be transported back to San Francisco. Outside, the sky had long since turned dark while they finished dinner and spent a few more hours just talking.

“It’s good to see you,” Jim said with a smile.

“You too,” Bones said before Jim and Spock dematerialized.

They reappeared in the over-bright transporter room at Starfleet headquarters. The Representative of United Earth on the Federation Council met them right off the pad and led them back through the winding hallways. It was still early evening in San Francisco, so Kirk and Spock enjoyed a second sunset on their way to the apartment that had been provided for the returned captain. The representative welcomed them inside a penthouse suite, much more spacious than Kirk’s old apartment, furnished in what must have been the 24th century style, though it wasn’t quite as beige as the  _ Farragut _ .

“Make yourselves comfortable,” the representative said, “and if you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.”

After a round of polite assurances and good-byes, she finally took her leave. The door slid shut behind her and all of a sudden the apartment seemed enormous and silent. For a moment, Jim and Spock just stood there, in the middle of the large, almost empty room, between blank walls. Inevitably, Jim was drawn to the far wall made entirely of windows looking out on the city and the bay, and, of course, the deep blue sky, studded with a few bright early stars.

Slowly, with almost uncharacteristic cautiousness - a reminder of the distance between them - Spock made his way over to the window, to stand at Jim’s side, so their arms barely brushed against each other. Jim purposefully brought their hands together, so they were just touching, enabling their thoughts and feelings mingle as much as Spock was willing to let them.

Finally, Jim asked aloud, “Would you really rather stay on Earth?”

Spock hesitated. He shielded his side of their bond, but Jim could feel his uncertainty and longing seeping through. It had been a lonely eighty years. Even with their renewed bond, he was reluctant to leave Jim on Earth again.

Jim took Spock’s hand in his own and gave it a solid squeeze.  _ Let me come with you. _

Spock’s discomfort with the idea came through loud and clear.

Jim loosened his hold on Spock’s hand, but he did not let go.

He did not know for certain what thoughts passed through Spock’s mind, but Jim could feel him warring within himself, torn between two unsatisfactory alternatives.

“Would you truly be happier on Romulus?” Spock asked at last.

“Yes,” Jim said without even needing to think about it, and Spock knew him well enough to believe it.

Later that night, when they lay in bed, the lights dimmed to zero percent, Spock remarked, “You have been offered a captaincy.”

Jim tensed a little. Spock had withdrawn from his side of the bond until his thoughts were almost unreadable. Jim tore his eyes away from the stars outside the open window and rolled over to face Spock with a little distance between them, so he was no longer pressed against Spock’s side.

“I have,” Jim said, ready for the conversation to end there.

He could see Spock debating whether to press or withdraw. Jim even felt a small burst of muddled emotion; all the uncertainty of a man no longer used to expressing his feelings, let alone sharing them with others.

Jim reached out to rest a hand on Spock's wrist, just below the cuff of his long-sleeve nightshirt. "Goodnight, Spock," he said softly.

Spock did not argue. He let the tension slowly fade away. "Goodnight, Jim," he said at last. In the light of the moon and stars, and the tireless city, Jim could see Spock's gentle expression that was not quite a smile.

Jim took it as an invitation and snuggled up to Spock. He leaned into Spock's side, with an arm around his chest, and his nose just an inch away from Spock's cheek. Jim let out a sigh of contentment, just enjoying the proximity. Spock's body heat staved off the cool breeze wafting in the window and he radiated steady affection through their bond.

* * *

The next day was bright and brisk with a distinct feeling of spring - not that it actually meant anything in San Francisco. Jim had suggested a walk in Golden Gate Park, but with all the publicity that came with a miraculous return from the dead, it was deemed inadvisable. Instead, they took a Starfleet shuttle to one of the many hills that peeked out of the city, forming little islands of parkland in a sea of buildings. It was quiet and peaceful with a splendid view, just a little small for wandering around.

After a quick circuit around the edge of the hilltop, Jim and Spock stopped at the most scenic point to look out on the city. Houses sprawled out around them, parading up and down the sloping roads. In the distance they could see Starfleet Headquarters and the Golden Gate Bridge and in the other direction were the skyscrapers of downtown. Beyond was the sparkling bay and beyond that rolling hills.

Jim couldn’t deny that it was a nice place to visit.

“It will not be easy living on Romulus,” Spock cautioned him.

Jim just gave Spock a look.

Spock continued undeterred, “I have spent the past three years traveling from town to town, living in underground caverns. At times food has been scarce. I have not seen daylight for weeks at a time.”

“I know.”

Spock hesitated. “I am acting against direct orders. In all likelihood, Starfleet would not accept you if you returned.”

“Spock,” Jim said, a little louder and sharper than he intended, “I know what I’m getting into.”

Spock raised his eyebrows at Jim in disbelief. “Are you certain that you will be happier on Romulus?”

“Of course,” Jim said. “You know I don’t belong on Earth.”

Spock waited. Jim’s omission was too glaring to be ignored.

Jim glanced away. “I had my chance.”

“You have been offered another,” Spock reminded him.

Jim just shook his head.

He could feel Spock retreating in surrender even as he pressed, “It will be dangerous.”

Jim gave him a wry smile. “That’s why I can’t let you go alone.” There was some weighty truth behind his words, but they both knew his motivations weren’t purely selfless.

“And what do you intend to do when I am not in immediate danger?” Spock asked.

Jim shrugged. “It has to be more interesting than retirement. We could play chess, maybe I could pick up the Vulcan lyre.”

Spock gave him a skeptical look.

More seriously Jim suggested, “I can represent the Federation. For Romulus and Vulcan to reunite, there would have to be some understanding between the Romulans and the Federation.”

“Very logical,” Spock said drily.

“Always the tone of surprise,” Jim teased. He let his shoulder bump up against Spock’s. Gently, Jim said, “Don’t worry.”

Spock made it clear that he did not miss the hypocrisy in Jim’s suggestion, but he did not protest.

* * *

Jim sat in the dimly lit living room, staring out the window. The sparkling city below seemed to reflect the star-speckled night sky above. The city was much brighter, but Jim only had eyes for the stars. His cold mug sat forgotten on the coffee table.

Spock hesitated a few feet away, watching Jim in his silent vigil, reluctant to interrupt it. He cradled a fresh, hot mug of tea between his hands, letting the warmth and the heady aroma of familiar spices wash over him. Out the window, he could see a bank of clouds advancing in the distance, threatening to come between the city and the stars above, covering it in a thick grey blanket.

He was tempted to return to the bedroom without a word and settle into his nightly meditation. Jim would not mind. But this was too important to be indefinitely put off and avoided.

Finally, Spock made his way over to the couch and sat down next to Jim. Jim scooched a little closer, but otherwise made no move to acknowledge him.

“Jim,” Spock said aloud at long last.

Jim startled at the noise, shockingly loud in their otherwise silent apartment. He turned to face Spock, suspecting what he was going to say and none too happy with the prospect.  _ I will go with you to Romulus _ , he projected forcefully over the bond.

Still, Spock forged on. “Would you truly be happy there?”

“Yes,” Jim insisted, letting his gaze wander back to the window and the stars above. They would be together. It would not be easy, but what was life without a little challenge?

Spock hesitated. “I once said that captaining a starship was your first and best destiny. You have been offered a captaincy on your own terms. Would it not be most logical to accept it?”

Jim glared at him, though it lacked any heat. More pointed was his frown and the ghosts of memories best left forgotten.

“Jim,” Spock reproached him gently.

Jim just shook his head.

Spock waited, watching him expectantly, but he did not pressure him to continue. His expression remained impassive.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” Jim said at last. “Of course I’d be happier in the captain’s chair, but that’s not an option.”

Spock raised an eyebrow at him.

“You know what I mean,” Jim insisted.

“There will also be danger on Romulus,” Spock pointed out.

“I know that!” Jim snapped. He was shaking a little from the sheer force of his emotions. Spock could feel them pounding at the bond.

Spock rested a hand on Jim’s arm, though he did not dare touch bare skin.

Jim looked at him, almost pleading. “It was too much. I can’t be responsible for something like that again.”

The image of Spock dying, pressed against the glass, flashed across their minds with a powerful wave of guilt.

Spock tightened his grip on Jim’s arm. He stared until Jim met his eyes. “Jim, I am alive” - he conveyed as much of his presence as he could through the bond.

Jim gave him a weak smile. “I know.” He was still shaking a little. Spock could still feel the waves of unsteady emotion radiating off of him.

Spock pressed his hot mug of tea into Jim’s hands and allowed Jim to nestle himself into his side. Unable to stand to acquire a blanket, Spock draped his arm around Jim’s shoulders, drawing him closer still.

Spock felt woefully out of practice, but he could feel Jim relaxing as he settled against Spock’s chest, and the waves of affection that echoed through the bond likewise soothed Spock’s concerns, at least for the moment.

* * *

Jim glanced up from the history book he was reading.

Spock was ostensibly knitting, in the Vulcan style apparently - a hobby he had picked up on Romulus where he spent a lot of time waiting and often lacked easy access to replicators. However, he was engrossed in something else entirely. Jim could sense a heavy reluctance as Spock warred within himself, torn between unappealing options. He kept his thoughts carefully concealed behind mental shields, but Jim didn't know what else Spock could have been debating.

Spock raised an eyebrow at him and strengthened his shields.

But Jim was not so easily deterred. He put aside his reading and inched a little closer to Spock. He rested a hand on Spock’s arm.

“You followed me for twenty years, maybe it’s my turn to return the favor,” Jim suggested with a smile.

Spock made it clear that he thought Jim was missing the point. He let nothing else seep through the bond as he organized his thoughts.

“I want little more than to remain at your side,” Spock admitted at last, and Jim could feel the weight of eighty lonely years behind his words. “It would be most convenient for you to accompany me to Romulus; I would be able to continue my work without requiring us to part ways.” He hesitated. “However, I fear that it would be a grave mistake.” Spock looked Jim firmly in the eyes, as though he could see through them into Jim’s mind, to understand things even Jim himself did not fully comprehend.

Jim knew what he was suggesting and just shook his head.

“Jim,” Spock attempted.

Jim let out a sigh. “Spock, I can’t,” he insisted. They had been over it already and he was tired of arguing. He would never have another command, there was no use in dwelling on it.

Spock hesitated. He did not want to argue, to bring back such painful memories. Even as he disputed Vulcan philosophy, he still reflexively shied away from emotion in favor of logical arguments. But this debate would not be won with logic.  _ Jim deserves better. _

Spock forced himself to confront the matter directly. “Jim,” he said aloud, “You do not belong on Romulus any more than I belong in the captain’s chair. This is my doing, allow me to help.”

Jim answered with disbelief and reassurance that it was not Spock’s fault. Less confidently, he asked aloud, “What could you do?” It had been seven years since Spock’s return from the dead, not counting the additional eighty that had passed while Jim was in the Nexus, and the memory was still enough to convince Jim to remain in retirement.

Spock raised a hand toward Jim’s face in response, his fingers splayed to match Jim’s familiar psy points.

It was Jim’s turn to hesitate. Unpleasant memories swirled in the back of his mind - he wasn’t sure he wanted them reawoken. But he trusted Spock, if anyone could help, he could, and if he couldn’t, then at least he would understand, and maybe that would be enough to ease his doubts about bringing Jim to Romulus.

So, at last, Jim nodded and inched a little closer. Spock pressed his warm fingertips to Jim’s face and let their minds crash together as though they were meant to be one.

Spock kept a careful handle on the meld, ensuring that their identities were not lost, as he searched for the source of Jim’s trauma. He dove past memories of an uneasy retirement; a meaningless life in a lonely apartment, and the tossing and turning that led up to the decision.

His approach slowed as he neared the psychic equivalent of scar tissue left from the broken bond. Jim had spent two years in an empty daze as Spock had ever so slowly gotten his memories back. Jim’s memory of the time was grizzled and angry around the edges and his mind echoed with desperation -  _ Not again, don't let it happen again _ .

It would have been easier for Spock to pass through Jim's memories without engaging, but he was not there as an impassive observer.

_ I am here _ , Spock insisted.  _ We are safe. _

Jim’s mind attempted to order itself. He knew he was not there - they were both safe, sitting on the couch in the living room of their new apartment in San Francisco - and yet, it was easy to get lost in memories, especially as Spock drew him into them.

Spock continued deeper still, to the source of the wound, the scene that had replayed itself in Jim’s mind over and over and over, like a mantra, or like the blood spilling out of an open wound. The bond had healed, but the memories were still raw with emotion.

The only logical thing to do was to start at the beginning:

_ “Scotty, I need warp speed in three mintues or we’re all dead!” The admiral is desperate. They’re running out of options. _

_ There is no response from engineering. Spock knows what is wrong, and there is only one solution. It will cost him his life, but he can save the others. _

_ (No! Not again! We can find another way!) _

_ (It is just a memory.) _

_ Spock stands with all the determination of a desperate man and leaves the bridge. He proudly marches down to engineering. _

_ (Jim smiled as he stepped onto the lift on the Enterprise-B, ready to do whatever it took to save a ship that was not even his own.) _

_ Dr. McCoy attempts to dissuade him. _

_ (Please! Don’t let him go! I need him!) _

_ (I am here.) _

_ He is efficiently disabled. Meanwhile, the situation looks increasingly desperate on the bridge. _

_ Spock presses his fingertips to Dr. McCoy’s psy points. “Remember.” _

_ Then, he enters the chamber, fully knowing what it will do to him - he must act quickly. _

_ “Engine room! What’s happening?” the admiral shouts into the intercom, but goes unheeded. _

_ (Get up! Go! You have to stop him!) _

_ The admiral does not move. He does not know. _

_ Spock struggles with the cap. _

_ (No! Spock! Don’t!) _

_ (I am unharmed - after a fashion.) _

_ He is buffeted with noxious gas and radiation besides. Undeterred, he reaches into the core. He will save them all, even as it kills him. He will not let them die. _

_ On the bridge, Sulu voices what they are all thinking; “We’re not going to make it, are we?” _

_ (There has to be another way!) _

_ (Yes, there was. And you found it.) _

_ Spock’s work is almost done... _

_ “Sir, the mains are back online!” _

_ (No!) _

_ (If not, we all would have died.) _

_ “Go, Sulu!” _

_ In their wake, the Genesis planet is born. _

_ “Jim, I think you’d better get down here.” _

_ The admiral sees the empty chair. _

_ He runs down to engineering like a man possessed. _

_ (It’s too late… Too late…) _

_ (But it wasn’t.) _

_ He freezes. _

_ (Get him out! Bones can still do something! There has to be some way!) _

_ (You found a way.) _

_ (Too late!) _

_ The others stop him from running headlong into the chamber. _

_ “It’s too late, Jim.” _

_ “SPOCK!” _

_ He presses against the glass, calls out to him in every way he knows how. _

_ He is still alive, but he is dying. Even dying, he moves so carefully. _

_ “Jim. Out of danger?” _

_ “Yes.” _

_ Spock nods. “Don’t grieve, admiral.” _

_ (Do not grieve.) _

_ “It was logical. The needs of the many outweigh…” _

_ “The needs of the few.” _

_ “Or the one.” _

_ “Spock…” _

_ Together, they fall to their knees. _

_ “I have been and always shall be your friend.” Spock presses his hand to the glass. “Live long and prosper.” _

_ Jim presses his hand to Spock’s, but they cannot touch. _

_ He can feel his breaths and heartbeats are numbered. He sits and falls against the glass. His only regret is the grief he leaves behind. _

Jim waited for the emptiness, three long years of it...

Spock let their minds surge together at last in an overwhelming rush of  _ not alone _ and  _ whole _ . A turbulent swirling mass of contradictory emotion raged and ravaged, but its overwhelming power was nothing against the  _ rightness _ of two minds made one.

Jim collapsed into Spock’s arms, tears streaming down his face - Spock detected some wetness under his own eyes, but he paid it no heed. He held Jim, shaking and possibly still sobbing in his arms, as though he could protect him from his own memories. He did not know if he had helped or made things worse, but now all he could do was attempt to soothe Jim with his presence and the knowledge that he had not failed all those years ago.

Spock rubbed circles into Jim’s back as all the pain, and sadness, and guilt, and anger came pouring out of him, as though the wound had been opened anew. Spock could only hope that they drained away instead of festering.

Eventually, the outpouring of emotion slowed and Jim's breathing steadied. He lingered in Spock’s arms, savoring the warmth of his body and the even rhythm of his breath. There was no wall between them, though Spock’s shields had returned.

Finally, Jim pulled away, though he kept a hand on Spock’s arm to steady himself. With Jim’s unspoken permission, Spock stood and retrieved tissues and a glass of water, and put up some water for tea.

Jim gave Spock a watery smile as he returned, grateful if a little embarrassed.

Spock merely gave him a look - there was no cause for embarrassment - and let an apology seep back through the bond.

Jim shook his head. He was adamant that Spock had done nothing wrong.

He blew his nose and gulped down the water. When he finally felt a little more presentable, he leaned back against Spock's chest and let his eyes fall shut. His tired mind still jumped from memory to memory, few of them pleasant, but they were more distant now and he gave no indication that he desired Spock's assistance - for which Spock was ashamed to say he was grateful; he'd had more than enough emotion for one day. Jim appeared likewise drained.

Once Jim was comfortable, Spock settled into a meditation of his own to the steady rhythm of his hand massaging Jim's shoulder. The shared sensation brought their minds a little closer together, even as their thoughts remained separate.

Dinner was a quiet affair that evening, though to all appearances Jim made for cheerful and charming company. They turned in for the night early and when they lay down to sleep, Jim clung to Spock as he had when his memories had just returned; as though if he did not hold on tight enough, Spock would not be there in the morning.


	4. Chapter 4

Jim was subdued and contemplative for the next few days. He talked easily with the various officials that came to visit the famous captain, returned from the dead, but when he was alone with Spock, he was unusually quiet and serious. He made no indication that he wanted to talk about it, so Spock did not impose - he had done his part for better or worse and would push no further.

One evening, as they were preparing for bed, Jim spoke up. "There's nothing I can do," he said ruefully, but he did not sound defeated.

Spock waited for him to continue, an eyebrow raised in curiosity.

Jim sat down on the bed, and once Spock was dressed, he sat down facing Jim, with just a few inches between them.

Only then did Jim continue, “Maybe I could have beat Khan - raised the shields sooner, somehow kept him from getting the Genesis device - but I would probably do it all the same if I tried again.” He shook his head.

Spock looked him firmly in the eye. “Like all mortal beings, you at times make mistakes.”

Jim frowned and Spock could feel his displeasure at the sentiment, but he could not deny it. “There’s definitely nothing I can do about it now,” Jim admitted.

“If there had been another option, I would have taken it. Under the circumstances, I do not regret my decision,” Spock said, though that didn’t stop a feeling of guilt from seeping through the bond.

Jim nodded. He didn’t like it, but again he couldn’t argue. “No one else could have survived in there long enough to do anything. If we just had more time… But we didn’t. If you hadn’t done it, we would have all died, and then there wouldn’t have been anyone left to bring you back.” He gave Spock a weak smile.

“A very logical appraisal of the situation,” Spock said, almost cautiously. For all of Jim’s well-reasoned logic, a powerful malaise bubbled beneath the surface.

Spock reached out a hand with the vague intention of resting it on Jim’s arm, but Jim instead took Spock’s hand in his own, letting his unspoken feelings rush through the contact.

“Jim,” Spock said gently, with just a tinge of uncertainty as he tried to convey some kind of apology for everything he had put Jim through, even though he would do it all again in a heartbeat if Jim’s life was in danger.

Jim cradled Spock’s hand between his own, savoring his soft touch and the steady warmth that emanated from within. If Jim pressed his fingertips to Spock’s wrist, he could feel Spock’s heart racing at a Vulcan’s resting speed.

There was some distance between them, not a wall, but he could still feel Spock’s reticence, and Jim was still a little lost in memories. And yet, the warmth Jim felt through Spock’s hand was not only physical; there was also a great affection, restrained as it was, and a desire to do right by him and to mend what was broken.

Spock waited and watched him in silence, allowing Jim to take his time, almost afraid to upset the balance he had already disturbed.

The memories still haunted Jim, but he wondered if maybe the solution was right in front of him. He squeezed Spock’s hand and let his eyes fall shut to savor all of the soothing warmth that radiated from Spock. In return, he tried to answer all of Spock’s concerns with gentle reassurance. They had made it this far, there was little doubt they could figure out everything else.

He could feel a trace of a smile flash across Spock’s lips that was echoed on his own.

* * *

“It’s absurd,” Jim said. He was sitting on Bones’s couch, under the cynical eye of his old friend. “How old am I?”

“Sixty,” Bones retorted.

“And eighty years out of touch,” Jim said, with a wave of his arm for emphasis. “I’m like one of my old antiques.”

"And what does that make me?" Bones demanded.

"I don't know," Jim said with a sigh. “You seem to enjoy retirement.”

“Don’t even think about it!” Bones wagged his finger at him.

Jim shook his head. “I shouldn’t even be thinking about returning to Starfleet, all I’d get is a desk job - or worse, publicity. They’d figure out pretty quick I’m too old to be of use anywhere else.”

“You damn well know that’s not true,” Bones snapped. “You’re just trying to talk yourself out of the most sensible decision you’ll ever make.”

Jim gave him a look. More seriously, he said, “Bones, I can’t go out there again.”

“Why the hell not?” Bones insisted. “You can’t tell me you’d rather follow Spock on his fool mission to Romulus, because we both know that’s not true.”

Jim let out another sigh and leaned back, letting his eyes wander up to the ceiling. “What if it happens again?”

“I’m sorry to break it to you, Jim, but everyone dies eventually, whether you’re exploring out there or wasting away down here,” Bones said, but his voice had lost its edge.

“It’s not that simple,” Jim protested.

Bones gave him a look of disbelief. “You always knew there were risks.”

“I know, but I didn’t really believe it. I always assumed we’d come out alright.”

Bones nodded. “Sometimes it felt like I was the only one taking things seriously.”

“But after Spock died…” Jim trailed off, unable to put it all into words.

“Toward the end there, I was worried you’d get yourself killed waiting for him to get his memories back,” Bones said quietly.

That just about summed it up. “And I tried again, but it just wasn’t the same.”

“They didn’t give you a chance,” Bones retorted. “And then Spock wandered off to try and make peace with the Klingons.”

“At least he was making a difference.”

Bones hesitated. “How are things with Spock? I can come up to San Francisco and knock some sense into him.”

“It’s alright.” Jim waved off the suggestion with a small smile. “Things are actually going well. The past eighty years haven’t been easy on him, but he’s been very supportive. He agrees with you that I should go back to Starfleet.”

“Damn right he does!”

* * *

“You never were quite the same,” Jim remarked.

He and Spock were sitting on the couch in the living room of their apartment, Jim ostensibly reading and Spock meditating as he kitted again. But Jim had given up on reading a while ago in favor of watching Spock.

His words jarred Spock out of his meditation. He put aside his knitting and waited for Jim to continue, regarding him with his full attention.

“After you came back,” Jim explained. “You were never so... independent before. I know you only accepted that captaincy because I pushed you into it, but you finally found something that’s yours.” He smiled at Spock with open admiration.

Spock inclined his head in acknowledgement, but remained more reserved. “I merely did what needed to be done,” he said, but they both knew it was more than that.

“You don’t really need me any more,” Jim said, his voice deceptively light.

Spock fixed him with his firmest look. “You may no longer be my commanding officer, but I have been and always shall be your friend.”

At the familiar words, Jim felt a rush of warmth, and a little shame at his accusation.

Spock held out his first two fingers to Jim, who reciprocated the gesture, brushing their fingertips together so sparks flew down their spines and danced across their minds. When they drew apart, they sat in silence for a moment, just looking at each other, letting the other’s presence echo in their mind.

Spock was the first to speak, slow and cautious; “I was under the perhaps inaccurate impression that my presence was insufficient to aid in your recovery from the broken bond - that you required something that I could not provide.”

“I don’t know what I need,” Jim admitted. “But your presence helps.”

The lonely years of his last mission and his subsequent solitary retirement lingered unspoken between them. Jim could feel the weight of Spock’s guilt.

Jim rested a reassuring hand on Spock’s shoulder. “We’ve both had more than our share of loneliness.” Jim hadn’t intended to be missing for eighty years, but when he left the bridge of the  _ Enterprise-B _ he half expected not to survive at all.

“Would you like for me to serve as your first officer again?” Spock asked hesitantly, and maybe even a little reluctantly, but if Jim needed him, he would do anything.

“I don’t know,” Jim said. “There’s nothing like the good old days, but I don’t know if I could bear the responsibility. And I would hate to keep you away from Romulus.” He shook his head. “I don’t even know if I really want to go back out there.”

They both knew Spock’s opinion on the matter, so he did not bother to voice it.

Jim picked back up his reading and scootched over so he could lean against Spock’s chest, comfortably in the way of his knitting. Spock obligingly put an arm around Jim’s shoulders.

* * *

Kirk and Spock met Scotty at the Starfleet transporter terminal. He bounded over to them as soon as he materialized, looking no older than when Kirk had last seen him on the  _ Enterprise-B _ .

“Captain!” Scotty exclaimed, greeting Kirk with an outstretched hand.

“I’m not a captain anymore,” Kirk attempted, but he went ignored, probably for the best.

Scotty gave his hand a firm shake. “You don’t know how happy I am to see you again, sir. I thought for sure you were dead.”

Kirk smiled. “You know I don’t believe in no-win scenarios.”

“Of course, sir. And, Mr. Spock, it’s good to see you too. You didn’t get stuck in a temporal nexus too, did you?”

Spock shook his head and raised a hand, his fingers splayed in the formal Vulcan greeting. “Live long and prosper, Mr. Scott.”

“I intend to,” Scotty replied. He turned back to Kirk. “I came as soon as I heard, it just took a wee bit longer than expected. I had to hitch a ride on three different starships just to get back to the solar system.”

“You didn’t make it all the way here on the little shuttlecraft Picard gave you?” Kirk teased, as he led the way out of the transporter bay and into the hallway of Starfleet Headquarters.

“No,” Scotty said. “She’s a good craft, but even with the modifications I made to the engines, she’d still have taken a few years to make it to Earth.”

“I’ve been reading up on your adventures. It sounds like you’ve had quite the time.”

Scotty nodded. “And before you ask, I’m happy exploring in my own little craft. Anyway, you need a bright young chief engineer who can keep up with all your crazy demands.”

Kirk hesitated. “You know I’m still retired.”

Scotty gave him a look. “Have they not offered you a ship yet? Just point me to the head of Starfleet and I’ll give them a little talking to!”

“It’s not that,” Kirk said reluctantly. “They’ve offered, I just haven’t decided whether I want to accept.”

“You have a better offer?” Scotty asked skeptically.

“Maybe,” Kirk said with a glance over at Spock.

Spock made his disagreement known, though his expression remained impassive, and Scotty glanced between them both in disbelief.

“Don’t tell me you’re going to become an ambassador,” Scotty said.

Kirk shrugged. “Something like that. It’s a possibility at least.”

Scotty just shook his head.

Kirk and Spock led Scotty around Starfleet Headquarters, making a token attempt at an official tour as they talked.

“Things really have changed,” Scotty remarked. “Out there, it doesn’t feel like it’s been so long, but down here…” he trailed off.

Kirk nodded in understanding. “Have you seen Bones?”

“No, I’ve been meaning to visit since I found out he was still around, but it’s such a hassle to come back to Earth with the shuttlecraft,” Scotty explained. He sounded a little sheepish.

“He’s doing well for a man of his age,” Kirk said with a subdued smile.

“If any of us had it in him to live this long, it would be Dr. McCoy,” Scotty said. “Not to mention Mr. Spock here with his Vulcan constitution. You really haven’t aged at all in the last eighty years.”

Spock raised an eyebrow at him. “I feel my age, if more slowly than the average human.”

“Tell me when your hair turns grey,” Scotty retorted.

“The process has already begun.”

Scotty gave Spock a look of disbelief, before he turned back to Kirk. “It’s not so different once you get used to it, even the engines haven’t changed too much. Though they’ve become sticklers for regulation, at least they did on the  _ Enterprise-D _ .”

“Captain Picard does it by the book. But the galaxy sure has changed since we made peace with the Klingons.” Kirk glanced over at Spock in acknowledgement.

“I don’t know,” Scotty said, “I’ve just been in my little sector, but space seems the same as it always was.”

“Good. There’s still plenty left to explore?”

“Of course! And it’s good to be back.”

Kirk nodded. “It is good to be back.”

* * *

Jim stood on an outcropping overlooking the green, forested hills, dotted with light brown patches of dried out grasses. He could see the winding path that he and Spock had taken up to the low peak. It was good to get out of the city. At least out in the wilderness, they were free from prying eyes and curious reporters.

They had mostly hiked in silence, occasionally communicating through the bond, but Jim had largely been left to his own thoughts. He could feel Spock’s curiosity and concern, but he was willing to watch and wait, ready to intercede only if Jim needed it.

Jim beckoned Spock onto the outcropping, to share in the view and Spock obliged even though he could see it clearly enough through the bond. Jim snuck an arm around Spock’s waist and they stood there in silence a little longer, just enjoying the view. Despite his heavy coat, it was a little chilly for an aging Vulcan out in the open with a steady breeze, but Spock didn’t mind so much as Jim leaned into his side.

Finally, Jim shot Spock a wry smile. “I don’t really have a choice, do I?”

Spock raised an eyebrow at him in feigned innocence.

“You’re sure you don’t want me to come with you to Romulus?” Jim asked one last time, even though he very well knew the answer.

“Frankly, it would be a waste of material,” Spock replied with a trace of a smile of his own.

Jim sighed, though he appreciated the compliment. Even if he went to Romulus, if something happened, there wasn’t anything he could do.

Spock met Jim’s eyes. “The last thing I want to do is to prevent you from  _ living _ .”

“I know,” Jim said. “I’ll miss you.”

“And I you,” Spock said.

Jim leaned in to kiss Spock on the lips at the same time as Spock reached out with his first two fingers. Their lips and fingertips pressed together simultaneously in a soft, warm embrace.

* * *

“I’ve changed my mind,” Kirk announced. “I’d like to reactivate my commission - with a few conditions.”

“That’s great,” the admiral exclaimed. “I know you’re used to commanding the  _ Enterprise _ , but-”

Kirk cut her off with a wave. “The  _ Enterprise _ belongs to Captain Picard. I just want a ship and a star to steer her by.”

“The  _ Constitution _ is almost done being refitted, I can arrange a tour immediately.”

“My only conditions are that I want an exploratory mission, as far from Starfleet Command as possible, and I won’t accept any promotions.”

“We can work with that,” the admiral said.

She held out a hand for him to shake and he took it.

* * *

“A toast,” Bones declared, holding up his glass, “to cheating death.”

The others raised their glasses with a cheer and clinked them together.

“It is highly improbable,” Spock remarked with a fond glance at Jim.

Scotty clapped Jim on the back. “If anyone could do it, we could.”

“We all had to become miracle workers to put up with your crazy plans,” Bones added.

“I hope the new crew is up to it,” Jim said.

“Don’t be too hard on them,” Bones cautioned. He turned to Scotty - “You decided you’ve finally had enough?”

“I was ready to retire then, I’m still ready now,” Scotty said. “It’ll take a younger person than me to keep up with Captain Kirk. You’re happy to be back on the ground?”

“I’ve had more than my share of outer space, thank you very much,” Bones said. “I must have been mad to stay out there as long as I did.” He rounded on Spock - “You’re really going back to your fool’s errand on Romulus?”

“I intend to return to Romulus,” Spock replied, careful not to confirm the rest of Bones’s statement.

Bones just shook his head.

“What are you doing on Romulus? I thought for sure you would have stayed on as first officer,” Scotty exclaimed.

“I have my own mission, educating the people of Romulus in Vulcan philosophy so that one day the two societies can be reunited,” Spock explained.

“Good luck,” Scotty said. “It sounds like you’ll need all the luck you can get.”

“Thank you, Mr. Scott.”

Scotty leaned back in his chair and remarked, “After peace with the Klingons, peace with the Romulans suddenly doesn’t sound so far-fetched.”

“We’ll all have to band together to handle the Borg,” Jim added.

Scotty shook his head. “Somehow it seems like it was all simpler when we were just at war with the Klingons, but maybe that’s just the nostalgia speaking.”

“It wasn’t simple then and it isn’t now,” Bones retorted.

“A very efficient appraisal of the situation,” Spock intoned. “For a doctor, your understanding of galactic affairs is remarkable.”

“Just because I’m retired doesn’t mean I don’t have ears,” Bones snapped.

“Gentlemen,” Jim interrupted with a smile, “Can you agree with each other without turning it into an argument?”

“What will you do with a ship full of obedient young officers?” Scotty put in. “You’re liable to get bored.”

“Yes,” Jim said, “I’ll finally get some peace and quiet.” Without thinking, he glanced over at Spock and met his eyes. They would be apart for a long time, but the galaxy was waiting for them, and they would never truly be alone.

* * *

Captain Kirk sat in the center of the bridge. The new chairs leaned back too far, so he perched on the edge of his seat, watching the stationary stars on the viewscreen ahead. On his right was his ambitious young first officer, and on his left was the ship’s counselor. Around him, officers hurried to and fro, preparing the ship for launch. They all looked so young, fresh out of the academy. He could hardly imagine they were ready for a mission, even their first.

_ We were younger _ , Spock remarked over their bond. For an instant, Jim glimpsed the interior of an underground cavern, no doubt on Romulus.

Kirk just shook his head in disbelief.

“Starfleet Command says we’re clear to launch,” the communications officer reported from the terminal just above the captain's chair.

“Good,” Kirk said. “Helm, take us out of here, slow and steady until we’re out of the solar system.”

They gradually pulled away from planet Earth, past the moon and the reddish sphere of Mars, and then they turned up, peeling away from the asteroid belt. They got a final glimpse of the sun before rocketing off, toward the stars.

_ Space: the final frontier. These are the voyages of the USS Constitution, on its continuing mission to explore strange new worlds, seek out new life and new civilizations, and boldly go where no one has gone before! _

**Author's Note:**

> I want to thank everyone for joining me on this journey! This story has been on my mind for a long time, and I hope you enjoyed the final result as much as I enjoyed writing it!
> 
> It’s been an incredible one and a half years of practically non-stop Star Trek. I have a few shorter stories waiting to be posted and I’m really excited about the longer story I’m working on for this year’s T’hy’la Bang that will come out in June! However, otherwise, my thoughts have largely turned to my other loves; Sherlock Holmes and a new addition, Jeeves and Wooster.
> 
> I don’t want to stop writing Kirk and Spock, but to keep it up, I need your help: if there’s anything you want me to write, send me a prompt! It can be anything from a specific scenario, to a song that makes you think of them, or even just a word, and I’ll write a short fic. (The only rule is, as usual, no sex.)
> 
> As always, thank you all very much for reading!


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